Boring Girls(62)

“We don’t have a demo. Actually, the reason that we wanted to meet you is to let you know that, I guess, you’re a bit of a role model to us.”

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you to say.”

“No, seriously. There aren’t many women in metal. You’re one of the few, and as we’re just starting out in a band, I mean, I guess we just wanted to get some of your perspectives on things. I mean, you’re amazing onstage. You don’t take any crap from anyone.”

“And you’re a great bass player,” Fern added.

Marie-Lise took a sip of her coffee. “That’s nice of you guys to say. And I mean . . . yeah. You’re right. Things were pretty difficult, especially at the beginning.”

She took out a cigarette and lit it. Fern quickly reached into her own purse and took one out, and inwardly I rolled my eyes.

“To be honest with you guys, I mean, I’ve met girls like you before. Girls who are in bands, just starting things out. And you never hear anything from them again. It’s like they lose interest. Or maybe something happens that discourages them, you know? And they don’t think they’re going to have a place in this business.” Marie-Lise blew smoke thoughtfully. “When I got started, I met a lot of *s. People who just don’t think that a girl should be there, you know? More like, the girls should be waiting offstage to boost the guys’ egos and stuff.”

“I totally know,” I said, nodding.

“And even now, I mean, sure. Sometimes I still meet up with someone who wants to disrespect me. Sometimes it’s someone in the crowd, sometimes it’s someone behind the scenes that’s supposed to be there to help me.”

“So how do you deal with it?” I asked.

She grinned, relaxing. “Well, I mean, if it’s someone in the crowd, I love that. I’ll punch him right in the face. You just can’t let it get to you, can’t let it do anything to affect what you’re doing. My whole thing is — what if I got upset onstage? There’s one * there who wants to disrespect me, and there’s five hundred people there who are giving me a chance, and there’s another four hundred and ninety-nine who think I’m awesome. This is one person. And if I were to burst into tears, or walk offstage, I would be changing nine hundred and ninety-nine people’s opinions of me. Over one jerk.”

“That’s true,” I agreed.

“See, when you’re in this business, you need to have a goal. That’s what I think. A reason that you’re doing it. Something to keep in your mind to focus on and work towards. So when you’re at your lowest you can picture whatever it is in your mind, and remind yourself why you’re not going to quit.” She grinned. “Because you’re going to want to quit. And you probably will, in all honesty. Most people do. It’s not all glitz and glam like everyone thinks.”

“What’s it like?” Fern said.

“Work is what it is. Hard work. And it doesn’t pay off. If making money is your goal, I’d suggest finding a new one. Only a few bands make it really big and make that money and have that lifestyle. Everyone else struggles. We’re still struggling and we’ve been in the band for seven years now.”

I was a little surprised to hear that. Gurgol was in all the magazines, they were very popular. I’d assumed they were doing great. “What’s your goal?” I said.

“To make music with my friends and have incredible experiences alongside them. To see the world, which we’ve done and are still doing. To have a different kind of life than everyone I knew growing up. That kind of thing. An interesting life. Something amazing to look back on. I chose a different path than most people I know. And I’m proud of it, even if it isn’t buying me a house.” She laughed.

“What’s it like being on the tour bus?” Fern said. I tried not to scowl. She sounded like a fan, and here I was, trying to be an equal.

“Work,” Marie-Lise repeated. “All of it is work. Definitely. I love the guys. And that’s the other thing I should tell you. You’re going to run into a lot of *s who will hate you because you’re a woman in metal. Make sure that whoever you are in the band with supports you and believes in you. Make sure they’ll have your back, no matter what happens. And have theirs.”

I felt like we were being watched and flicked my eyes to the sidewalk. To my surprise, I saw Kate and Jennifer, Paul’s stage dancers or girlfriends or whatever the hell they were, walking past the coffee shop. Their eyes were riveted to our table, obviously noticing us having our friendly coffee with Marie-Lise. I tried to suppress my grin and turned my attention back to her as the girls passed, wanting to solidify the impression they were getting of us being friends. “Do you ever get lonely?”